


Two To Keep A Secret

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-13
Updated: 2011-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-23 17:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite being surrounded by people who discovered secrets for a living, Ariadne and Eames managed to keep a pretty big secret. Then again, they were really motivated to do so.</p><p>For the prompt <a href="http://inception-kink.livejournal.com/17947.html?thread=40158747#t40158747">They marry a year after the inception, and tell no one. No Arthur knowing, none of that. How they handle domesticity in their line of work.</a> Also for the "bullet wounds" box on my h/c bingo card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Best Kinds of Secrets

"You know that Arthur is very protective of you," Eames commented as he walked through the hospital fortress of his level with Ariadne. He had suggested a cold and austere landscape to reflect what they knew of Maurice Fischer, but hadn't quite thought of the snow and ice. He rather liked it, and looked forward to doing stunts on skis again.

Ariadne smiled. "I know. He's been very conscientious and gallant. I think he wants to make sure he doesn't scare me away during this part of the job."

Eames laughed and looked at the wall safe. He crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side as he contemplated Ariadne. "You're here, despite the risk and danger involved in this line of work. You're willingly associating with criminals." He uncrossed his arms and grinned at her. "I do believe you have a wild streak he hasn't realized yet."

Tucking her hair behind her ears, Ariadne merely gave him a Mona Lisa smile. "Maybe."

Taking a gamble, Eames strode forward and let his large hands fall to her shoulders. She didn't flinch or seem perturbed in the slightest. "How far are you willing to go, Miss Ariadne?" he asked, lips quirking into a sensual smile.

Ariadne rested her hands on his chest, fingers curling slightly into the fabric. It was softer than she would have thought it would be. "You presume a lot, don't you?"

"Am I wrong?"

Her smile was more than answer enough. "Not entirely, no."

"Not entirely?" he taunted playfully.

"How do I know you're worth the risk?"

"Isn't finding out part of the fun?"

She laughed and pulled him down for a kiss.

***

Ariadne liked Arthur, and he made a great friend. She was tempted to tell him about certain improprieties she and Eames had been up to while he was learning his level, but changed her mind. There was more than enough competition between the two as it was, and she didn't want to tip it over into outright animosity. It wasn't a conscious decision not to tell anyone, but it seemed to be the safest option. Whatever her relationship with Eames turned out to be, she didn't want it to distract the team.

It was a little endearing that Eames seemed to feel the same way. "Arthur will scold you, you know," he had said, looking out over the snowy vista. "He doesn't mix business with pleasure, and isn't the sort to understand we're just having a bit of fun." He was the dreamer this time, and the scenery was almost able to match the crispness of Ariadne's dreamscape. He looked down when Ariadne touched his arm, and he gave her a smirk. "The others will think I'm corrupting you. You're not a confirmed criminal like the rest of us, and they'll fall all over themselves to try to save you from this horrid fate," he told her, sarcasm in his tone. She was an adult and could make her own decisions; if anything the innocent appearance could only help her hide in plain sight if she wanted to stay in dream share.

"Eames," she murmured, leaning in closer and standing on her tip toes. She pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek, then leaned her forehead against his face. _"This_ is what I want. The dreaming, you... This is what I choose."

"It's dangerous, Ariadne," he murmured, turning to wrap his arms around her. It was freezing cold now, so they had to wear snowsuits. He wished he could tear hers off and bare her skin to his gaze again. "I won't lie to you about that. We're making it look easy, but it can be dangerous going into someone's mind. It can be dangerous in the real world, if the subject has physical security you hadn't planned for."

They had no idea how right he would be.

***

Everyone separated after the Fischer job. Robert Fischer went off and broke apart his inheritance, selling some of it piecemeal. Saito bought up some of those pieces, but for the most part he seemed a much more methodical and quiet man. Ariadne supposed that a lifetime in limbo would add a little weight to his decisions. She hadn't really been there long enough for limbo to make an impact besides knowing it existed and was easy to get lost in. Eames had stopped by or called her frequently after the Fischer job, as had Arthur. At first she didn't see it as anything more than professional courtesy to be sure that she was truly all right after the ordeal. Ariadne hadn't thought of it as the terrifying experience that the other dreamers had, but it never really occurred to her that the risk of staying in limbo was _never waking up._ She hadn't stopped to think of the possibility that she could have never come back.

As much as she and Eames had more of a physical relationship than an emotional one during the Fischer job, she gradually realized that he was more attached than he wanted to let on. He had made it clear during the job itself that he would leave if she didn't return, and she had understood it as professional distance. When he started staying overnight to watch her sleep to be sure that she woke up in the morning, Ariadne realized that perhaps there had been fear, too. He wanted to be sure that she didn't get lost in dreams, and that she was still the same woman he had worked with on the Fischer job.

Eames showed up at her apartment in Paris nearly a month later. He kissed her as soon as she opened the door, walking her backward and kicking the door shut behind him. "Mind if I stay a while?" he asked between kisses. It took her a moment to realize that this was their first kiss in the real world, that they had always been so circumspect at the warehouse before this.

"I'd be insulted if you didn't," Ariadne said, pushing his jacket from his shoulders.

His body was slightly different in this world than in dreams. There were more scars, evidence of past bullet wounds and knife fights, and a nasty looking burn across his left thigh that he didn't want to discuss. Ariadne kissed each one, a map of all his past troubles, and didn't ask any more questions about it. It was exploring with hands and lips and mouths, seeing and feeling everything for the first time. She had to laugh when they bumped noses, when his touch across her stomach tickled instead of aroused, when his stomach growled as they lay spent on her bed. "Okay. I might not have eaten before I got here," he admitted with a grin. "I was rather in a rush to visit a certain someone."

"Good," she said, rolling over to straddle him. "I do have food here. I can make you something."

"Can you cook?" he asked, delighted.

"Simple things. I'm a college student, you know." She grinned at him. "If it's cheap and simple, I know how to make it."

"Fantastic. Get all domestic and show me what a home is like."

Ariadne laughed and scrambled off of the bed to put together a simple meal, but it occurred to her that it was a rather sad comment. With the life he led, he probably didn't know what a home was like. He was probably running from one place to the next, hiding behind different aliases to keep ahead of the authorities. He'd warned her before, she knew. She wasn't blind to it. And as enamored of the dream share world as she was, she was going to have to learn at least a few of those tricks herself.

Eames made a big show of enjoying dinner, dressed in nothing but his underwear as he sprawled across her ratty couch. "You need a larger flat, darling," he drawled, bowl in hand. "You can certainly afford it now."

"True," she murmured, perching at the edge of the couch near his hip. "I'll need space enough for you to stay in, too."

He eyed her with a half smile on his face. "You need to keep dreaming, don't you?"

"There's nothing else like it," she told him with a smile.

There was a sad cast to his eyes, as if he had hoped that wouldn't be the case for her. Arthur had looked at her in much the same way, actually. "Well, you should do it up right, then."

"That is the plan."

"And..." Eames sat up and leaned in closer to her. "I'm dangerous, Ariadne. Not to you, not directly, but in general. I'm all smiles where you're concerned, but I'm not the kind of man that stays out of trouble. I can't let anyone know how important you are..." His voice trailed off as her eyes widened. He let out a sigh as he realized what he said. "We'd be weapons used against each other if one of us got caught. I won't have you be used that way." He cupped her face in his gloved hands. "I've been shot at and hunted down. I'm a con man and a thief, Ariadne. I'm a forger in every sense of the word, and I don't want you going in blind if that's what you want."

Ariadne kissed him. "I trust you, Eames. In that respect, anyway," she added with a wry smile as he opened his mouth to talk. She slung an arm around his shoulders. "We'll work something out. No one will know, and no one will be able to hold you against me."

Eames laughed and then kissed her back. "Why was I ever afraid you wouldn't understand?"

She snorted and shook her head. "You have no idea how awful architecture programs can be. You might be talking about a different kind of danger, but I know how to watch my back."

"Thank God," he murmured, kissing her again.

***

Other than a three month stretch where Eames was working in New Delhi, he tended to stop by every other week for a few days at a time. He didn't announce his visits and he had a key to her new apartment. It was larger than the old one and had more sunlight in it for working. Arthur had helped her find it and introduced her to the security team that wired the alarms and helped to create another viable identity for her. Ariadne simply thanked him and didn't mention the identity that Eames had put together for her; having a few to fall back on would only be beneficial for staying in dream share.

Eames looked immensely proud of himself when he pushed two sets of passports at her. It was almost a year after the Fischer job, and there was a vague air of nervousness about him. "What do you think?" he asked, grinning madly once she picked up the passports.

One was hers, one was his. Their last names matched. Ariadne looked up at him, eyebrow lofted in an unspoken question. "These are really good fakes."

"They don't have to be, exactly," he murmured, resting his hand along her thigh. "The names aren't what we were born with, but they can be ours."

"With the same last name," she pointed out. She wasn't going to make this easy for him. He would have to actually ask.

He actually got to his knees, kneeling in front her as she sat on the couch. There was that same proud yet shy smile on his lips, his blue eyes twinkling. "Ariadne, will you marry me?" he asked, sliding his hands up her thighs. "I can't promise it will be safe, and it's not something we can tell anyone about. But I want more than just a life in dreams with you."

Ariadne leaned in close and kissed his upturned mouth. "Jonathan LeClair, I will marry you," she said against his mouth, smiling.

"He's the happiest man in all of Paris, you know," Eames replied, pushing her back against the couch and spreading her legs wide so he could kneel between them. "Elaine LeClair is the most beautiful-" He pressed a kiss to her neck. "-brilliant-" He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "-loving-" He pressed a kiss over her clothed chest. "-and sexy woman there is." He moved down and let his mouth hover over her stomach, making her catch her breath expectantly. "I'm a lucky man, Ariadne." He smiled, and she could see the absolute honesty there. "This is like nothing I ever expected and everything I ever wanted."

Pulling him up, Ariadne kissed his mouth. "Flatterer," she teased. "I love you, too."

***

There was coffee and croissants when Ariadne woke the morning she married Eames. They left her apartment separately, and met at the courthouse with their forged documents. The courthouse staff were more than happy to serve as witnesses, and the papers were signed with gusto. Elaine and Jonathan LeClair exchanged plain gold bands, though afterward their locations moved. Eames slipped his ring onto the chain of his pocket watch, as if it was a charm. Ariadne moved hers to her right hand, and planned to eventually put it on a chain around her neck. It would be easier to hide the ring behind a scarf, or explain it away as her mother's. If not for the ceremony, they might not have even gotten rings. There really wasn't a need for it, after all.

Eames had half of her closet and two drawers in her dresser. His guitar was in the corner of the bedroom, and he had few other belongings that could be traced back to him. He still kept a separate room in a boarding house just outside of Paris as a backup. Ariadne knew where he hid the key and what the pass code for the outer door was.

Just as no one had realized when their relationship had progressed beyond friendship, no one had any idea they had gotten married. They preferred it that way.

***

"I can't believe you have a secret love of chick flicks," Ariadne teased, feet up in Eames' lap as they watched a movie together.

"This is very good research material!" Eames protested, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. "Look at all that emotional content! How else can I emulate it?"

She plucked the popcorn from her shirt and popped it into her mouth with a smile. "Face it, you're a romantic at heart."

"That's a filthy lie," he returned with a grin. "I will deny it with my dying breath. I'm a heartless criminal, I'll have you know. I have quite the reputation behind me."

"Of course you do, sweetie," Ariadne said with a laugh, rubbing his side with her toes. Eames laughed and grasped her ankle, tickling the sole of her foot. Her leg jerked, tipping over the bowl of popcorn. "Oi! That was a perfectly good batch of popcorn you spilled!"

"You tickled me!" she protested, leaning forward to swat his arm. There was no way to pull her foot out of his grasp, and they both knew it. She let out a shriek of laughter as he tickled her bare sole again, and twisted in his grasp. She wound up falling off of the couch, and Eames fell off of it on top of her. "Oof! You're big and heavy," she said, pushing at his shoulders.

"You do like that, darling," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her.

Ariadne wrapped her arms around him. "Maybe."

He kissed her again, a smile on his face. "Definitely."

"Smug bastard."

Eames couldn't help but grin at that. "Maybe."

Ariadne laughed and leaned up to kiss him. "Definitely."

He laughed along with her, then kissed her again. His tongue slid into her mouth and he had a hand in her hair. "You taste like popcorn."

"So do you," she said with a smile.

Nuzzling her neck, Eames chuckled. "I wonder what else you taste like."

"Why don't you find out?" Ariadne replied breathily, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

They were too busy to actually watch the rest of the movie.

***

"Don't stop," Ariadne whimpered, nails digging into Eames' shoulders. "There, there..."

Eames grinned, swiveling his hips. He opened his mouth to say something in reply when his phone rang. "Bugger. It's Arthur."

"Don't you dare answer that phone," she snarled, moving her hands to grasp his rear and pull him in. "I'm close..."

"He gets persistent, and he knows I'm not working now." Eames gave her an apologetic glance and slowed his pace slightly. "I've got to answer. It's probably a job."

"He can wait five minutes!" she cried, digging her fingers into his ass.

"Darling, we both know it'll take more than five minutes..."

"Not if you answer that phone!"

He picked it up anyway. "He'll be insufferable if I don't," Eames said with a sigh. He brought his hand between her legs and started to stroke her. "I suppose you'll just have to be quiet." Ariadne glared at him but bit her lip to keep from moaning at the sensation. He did know how to push her buttons this way, and Eames gave her a brilliant grin as he hit the answer button on his cell phone. "This is a most inopportune time, Arthur. It better be good."

"Hello to you, too," Arthur replied testily. "You're not working at the moment, right?"

"Depends on what you have for me," Eames said, voice even despite the wiggle in Ariadne's hips. Oh, she played dirty pool. She grinned at his flustered expression and did it again. Just for that, he flicked his fingers a little faster against her, and she had to put her fist in her mouth to keep quiet.

"I've got a line on an industrial espionage job. Not very complicated in scope, but I think having a forger on board would be best."

"Who's on the team, then?" Eames asked, biting back a groan.

"Williams is probably going to be able to do the extraction. Escajeda definitely can't."

"Wanker isn't any good anyway. I've worked with him before, and he can't memorize more than a page or two at a time. He can't run anything complicated."

"Good to know. He came recommended," Arthur said. Eames could hear some faint scritches of a pen on paper, and focused on that instead of the sensation of Ariadne shimmying beneath him or her fingers stroking his stomach.

"Who else?"

"Why? Is having you for the job contingent on certain people being there?"

"Or not being there, as the case may be," Eames replied. He sucked in a breath when Ariadne tightened and jerked her hips. Realizing that Arthur could hear that, he quickly covered it by adding "Not that my personal vendettas would complicate a job. I'm just being cautious."

"As well you should," Arthur replied approvingly. "I need to get a definite response on a chemist and architect."

"What about Ariadne? Her work was bloody brilliant." That comment earned him a smile and a tender caress across his stomach, and he grinned in response.

"She's first on my list," Arthur said with a laugh. "I liked working with her."

"Well, Yusuf isn't likely going to go into the field ever again, but you can probably try to chase down Nils Janssen. I've heard good things about his work and Yusuf thinks he's a passable chemist." Eames covered a moan with a laugh. "Coming from Yusuf, that's high praise indeed."

Ariadne merely grinned in response to his mock glare and shimmied her hips again.

"Thanks for the heads up. I'll start tracking them down. I'll get back to you with more details on this job as soon as I get them."

"Sounds good, Arthur."

Eames tossed his phone aside on the bed and leaned into Ariadne. "You are a naughty, naughty girl, Ariadne."

She bucked her hips against his and made him groan in response. "You love it, don't lie."

Laughing, he kissed her and started working on her in earnest. She came with a cry, arching beneath him. "I'm not done with you yet, love," he murmured against her jaw.

Her phone rang, and they both groaned. Ariadne reached for her phone and glared at it when she saw it was Arthur. "This was _your_ idea."

"I didn't think he'd call you _now!"_

"Your turn for torture," Ariadne said smugly, hitting the answer button on her phone. Two could play at this game. "Arthur!" she said with a bright tone of voice. "So glad to hear from you again! How are you?"

She clenched her inner muscles at intervals or ran her nails along his skin as she chatted with Arthur about how he was doing and what the job would be. Eames managed to grit his teeth to keep silent, and he tried to play with her to get her to stop. Ariadne smacked his hand away and stuck her tongue out at him. When Arthur finally got off the phone, she tossed hers beside his.

"You are an evil, evil woman," Eames groaned finally. "Are you going to let me come?"

Ariadne gave him a push so that he fell to the side. She scrambled on top of him and readjusted their position. "Maybe. If you're good. And stop answering the damn phone while we're in bed together!"

"It was a job!"

"It can wait, dammit!" She bucked her hips and had her hands on his shoulders for balance. "You got that?"

"Yes, ma'am," Eames snarked.

Ariadne leaned down and kissed his lips. "Good boy." She grinned at him and then began to move in earnest. "Let's get you to come for me."

***

Their first argument was actually while on the job. In front of everyone else. Because he had to kiss another woman as he picked her jacket pocket, distracting her as he made a hand off to Arthur. Ariadne _knew_ it was insane; the kiss meant nothing and it was a necessary distraction so that Arthur could copy the data from the phone onto a blank. At the same time, her gut had roiled and she had wanted to rip out the woman's eyes and choke her to death.

She possibly was a little possessive. Possibly. Maybe.

Ariadne had looked over at the dark haired woman in her tailored outfit and high heels, feeling inadequate.

Definitely jealous, then.

Their extractor wasn't as good as Dom Cobb had been, and he certainly wasn't any kind of brave. He excused himself and left the room as soon as Ariadne started lighting into Eames, using words like "whore" and "heartless, callous bastard" before storming out of the office space they were using. Arthur stared after her and then at Eames. "Well," he began slowly.

"I haven't been dressed down like that since the military," Eames remarked, sitting down at a random desk. He looked at Arthur evenly, trying to see if the point man could guess anything.

"She's still relatively new," Arthur told him, sitting down opposite Eames. "And she doesn't know the lengths that sometimes we have to go to in order to get the job done."

Eames scrubbed at his jaw, wondering how he had managed to win Arthur's sympathy. This was awkward, and for a moment he almost wanted to admit he knew _why_ Ariadne had reacted the way he did. "I think I'd rather she just hit me and be done with it," he admitted with a smile. "Just get it out of her system so we can move on."

Arthur snorted. "That's not her style, you know that. We've been looking out for her, since no one ever really explained what the dream share community is like. She doesn't know how it can get. I for one would rather keep it that way."

"She's not fragile, Arthur," Eames remarked, even though he privately agreed with Arthur.

"I know that. But she doesn't have to see the darker sides of dream share, does she?"

"She would have our heads if she knew we were protecting her this way."

"I don't plan on telling her," Arthur told him pointedly. He took out his notebook and the copied cell phone. "The data was valuable. I should have a few leads on who you'll need to tail for this in the next day or so."

"Good to know the screaming match was worth it." He grinned and got up. "I'll go hide my face for a bit, then. I'll see you tomorrow, usual time."

He left Arthur to go work, and Eames put together a quick plan in his head. Dinner, flowers and a long discussion about what he would and would not be willing to do for the job now that he was married. There would likely be a lot of begging and pleading for her to understand the situation they were in, as well as reassurance that he only wanted her. He hadn't actually thought about how it would look to Ariadne, just as she likely hadn't thought she would have to watch him turn on the charm for someone else. She was usually pretty understanding, and Eames hoped that he could convince her that she was the _only_ woman he had any romantic interest in. That would likely lead to sex. At least, he hoped it did. He couldn't exactly predict how Ariadne would respond. Just when he thought he understood her, she did something unexpected that yanked out the underpinnings of his mental construct of her. It was part of his fascination with her, but it made times like this damned frustrating.

Ariadne was in her hotel room when he broke in. The door closed behind him with a quiet click. She was curled on the bed in loose pajamas, eyes red from crying and tissues overflowing from the tiny wastebasket. She had ice cream with her and was watching some horrible action movie on TV, though he could tell her attention wasn't on the movie at all.

Scrapping his prior plan, Eames sat on the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry, Ariadne," he murmured, kissing her temple. "I'm sorry."

"I know you had to. I know I'm being stupid about this. I know she doesn't mean anything. But..."

"It's... Would it be horrible if I said this is actually nice?" he asked, smiling against her temple and holding her even tighter. "She doesn't mean anything. Which likely doesn't sound right, but it's the truth. It was a way to distract her, nothing more. I didn't mean to hurt you with this."

"Ass," she grumbled, pushing at his chest. "I know that. I do. But you _looked_ into it, and it was awful to see that and know that _I'm_ the one you married and we can't tell anyone!" She sniffled and finished off the last of the ice cream, which had mostly melted inside the container. "You're not having sex with me," she said defiantly, chin jutting out.

"But then you lose out, too."

"I'm pissed off at life," she said, smacking his chest. "I'm not in the mood."

"You're _always_ in the mood!"

She smacked his chest again. "Out! As far as apologies go, this _sucks!"_

Eames sighed and pulled her even closer. He didn't care about the smear of chocolate on his shirt or the mascara streaks getting rubbed into his sleeve. He wasn't known for impeccable taste anyway, and he dressed mostly for appearance and rumor. "I love you, Ariadne." He said in low tones. "I wish I could tell everyone in the world without putting you in danger. I wish you didn't have to see that, so you wouldn't be this upset. I wish our work wasn't as dangerous as it is."

He could feel tears through his shirt and he merely rocked her. She clutched at his chest and remained silent. It wasn't forgiveness, exactly, but he knew that she wouldn't hold it against him when the tension bled out of her.

"You're beautiful," he whispered into her hair.

"I'm crying and awful and in crappy pajamas."

"You're _real,_ Ariadne. You're real and you're beautiful and you're _mine._ No one else is."

She was quiet for a long time, and Eames simply held her. "I love you," she said finally. "I'm a complete lunatic for that, but I still love you."

"Well, good. I love you, too. I'd hate for that affection not to be returned."

Shaking her head, Ariadne simply burrowed closer to his warmth. Eames held on tightly and breathed in the scent of her. This was real, and this was exactly what he wanted.

***  
***


	2. Balancing Work And Play

Medical technology always moved at a fast pace, and Columbia Industries was no different from any other med tech company. They were developing new laparoscopy surgical instruments, and their main competitor Marktneuheiten was willing to pay for the development plans. It would cut short their own development pipeline by years, which would make them just as competitive in the instrumentation market. They didn't want just the physical plans, however. They also wanted future development strategies that Columbia Industries would use, in order to better tailor their own plans. Markneuheiten certainly didn't want to be accused of industrial espionage.

Their initial subject in the bar was Bethany Peterman, assistant to the development and marketing director of Columbia Industries. Her smartphone had been a treasure trove of contacts, appointments and other information that would be necessary to go after her boss.

Ariadne started her designs on the two levels that they determined would be necessary to trick Christian Fusel into believing that he was in a meeting with the Board of Directors for Columbia Industries. The first level would be necessary to convince him that the Board of Directors needed a very thorough and detailed inventory of progress and development, and that a simple overview would not be enough. The second level would be the actual presentation, and he would go over in intricate detail the plans for their marketing teams as well as the actual development line that was in place at the moment.

"I'm glad you're not mad at Eames anymore," Arthur remarked as they went over her proposed designs. "It would be difficult to go under if the team wasn't working together."

She sighed and was tempted to discuss exactly why she had been so upset with Eames earlier. Instead, she put on her game face. "I just have a hard time seeing that sort of thing, you know? I know it's fake, I know it doesn't mean anything, but it's still disturbing to see." She gave Arthur a pointed look. _"You_ don't go around kissing strangers to pick their pockets."

Arthur shrugged. "Different situations call for different tactics," he said diplomatically.

"Arthur..."

"I can't give away all my secrets, right?" he responded lightly, a smirk on his face. "I do more than just hack into secure databases, after all."

Ariadne didn't know how to respond to that, since it was an incomplete answer that would allow her imagination to go in any of a thousand different directions. And she had a vivid imagination.

He turned his attention back toward the designs, however, not needing an answer. "The building here is a little too detailed. I'm sure Eames can forge any of his associates, but it doesn't look enough like the main office buildings."

"The idea is to actually change it enough that the feel of the place is different," Ariadne responded. "It's the exposure to space and color that will evoke a more oppressive feeling, so it should go along better with the idea that his current presentation won't work. If it's exactly like the current office building, he'll never think it's a bad idea."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully and looked back over the sketch. "Do you think there's too much detail for that, though?"

"You'll be holding the first level steady, right?" She gave him a teasing smile. "Don't tell me you don't think you can remember that much detail."

Snorting, Arthur shook his head. "I'll remember whatever you design, Ariadne." He grinned. "I still use that hotel you designed as dream meeting space if I need to discuss a lot of things in a short amount of time. It was amazing."

Ariadne grinned at the praise. "See? This is why I like working with you."

They laughed and focused on the design again, refining its level of detail.

***

"Huh. So she was married, then?" Eames asked, looking over Arthur's shoulder at the information on Bethany. Arthur looked up, eyebrow raised. "She certainly kissed me back quite enthusiastically at that bar."

"It does look like a marriage of convenience."

Eames sat down beside the desk and looked at the other information Arthur had compiled. "You never really know who would be faithful, then, would you?" He looked over the biographical data that Arthur was putting together. "Married nearly six years. Pity."

"Oh?" Arthur asked, leaning back in his chair. He put his pen and notebook down on the desk. "Why do you say that?"

"Even for convenience, that's a long time. It's rather sad, don't you think? She should have married for love."

"That's... surprising, coming from you."

Eames looked affronted. "Why do you say that, Arthur? You wound me. For all you know, beneath the rakish exterior beats the heart of a long-suffering romantic."

Arthur snorted, shaking his head. "You have seen and done far too much in this line of work, Eames. Besides, how many people would put up with your kind of lifestyle?"

"Well, there is that," Eames conceded. "It would be rather nice, wouldn't it?"

"Being married?" Arthur asked, eyebrow raised. At Eames' nod, he let the chair legs fall back down to the floor. "It would be difficult, but I suppose you could do it with the right person. They would have to be exceedingly understanding of the situation. You couldn't lie about it, not with the risks we take in the field."

"Not if I wanted to keep her safe, no. Do you think it's possible to be married and still do jobs like this?" Eames agreed. "Coming home to a woman, cook a meal together, congratulations-you're-not-dead sex..." Arthur snorted, shaking his head in amusement. "What? You don't think about that on occasion?"

"Dom and Mal Cobb managed it," Arthur said quietly. "They were both in the business, knew the risks involved. They made sure someone stayed home once they had Phillipa and James, so that in the worst case scenario someone would be able to take care of the kids." He looked up and shrugged at Eames. "They loved each other a lot, and they struggled to make sure it would work. It was hard to try to have a normal life for the kids, but they did it."

"You don't think we could do it," Eames observed, hearing his flat voice.

Arthur pointed to Bethany's file, at all of the sheets of paper spread out across the desk, as he hadn't neatly compiled it yet. "This? It's nice to think about love, to think that maybe someone out there is worth the risk. Relationships are difficult, Eames. Even in the best of times they can be difficult, and working a job at the same time can make it even more so."

"But you like a challenge," Eames teased, leaning back in his own chair. He folded his hands over his stomach and had a smile on his face. "I'm sure you can get that sharp mind of yours working to puzzle that out."

"I didn't say it was _impossible,_ Eames. I said it was _difficult."_

"You thrive on difficult, darling."

Arthur rolled his eyes at the endearment. "You're in an odd mood today."

"Contemplative, you mean?"

"Well, yes."

"Getting into Bethany's mindset a little before I shadow her," Eames lied. "She obviously can compartmentalize, if she'll cheat on her husband and kiss a stranger in a bar."

"She might not consider a kiss cheating."

"Some would," Eames challenged.

"Some would," Arthur agreed with a nod. "That's one thing that would make it difficult in this line of work. Take you, for example..."

"Me?"

Arthur grinned at him. "Why not? You brought it up."

"Why not take you, then?"

"You're the one that started this, you're the example." He waited for further protest, but Eames only sighed and shrugged. "If you were with someone and they saw you kiss her, what do you think would happen?"

Eames winced. "I already got raked over the coals for that, thanks."

"Exactly. Add in disappearing to odd places all over the world, meeting strangers your wife could never meet, going into various kinds of dreams she can't participate in... It's a lot of trust to have in someone. It's not impossible, but it's a rare thing." Arthur picked up his pen to have something to fidget with. He thought better while in motion. "Not to mention, you'd have to be very careful that any relationship wouldn't compromise your ability to work, or that the job doesn't follow you home. You're good at compartmentalizing things, just as Bethany is. Maybe you'd be able to separate work and home. You've been around long enough to know when you're being followed and you can cover your tracks fairly well."

Eames blinked in surprise. "Why, thank you, Arthur."

"The biggest problem you have in this?" Arthur continued, lips quirking up. "It's finding a woman to put up with the web of lies you have to spin. Or dealing with the fact that you might have to disappear and use a different name." Arthur smiled at Eames' blank expression. "Maybe someone in the business could tolerate it, but I don't see it lasting long term."

"No?"

Arthur shook his head. "Mostly because you don't stay still long enough. For something like this to work, you'd need trust and some kind of home. Whatever else, as long as there's a home to get back to, some place where you feel safe, it would be enough of a reminder why you do it."

"I think perhaps you're a romantic underneath it all as well, Arthur."

Leaning back in his chair again, Arthur gave Eames a sad smile. "I've seen it work, Eames. It took them maybe half a dozen different identities and two different tries at finding a place they felt safe enough to set up a home base. They stuck at it, though. Mal could be vicious when she lit into Dom, but they always made up. They never gave up because they thought it was worth it in the long run. It wasn't the same kind of normal life like these subjects might have, but it worked for them because they knew what they wanted. Once they figured that part out, they fought tooth and nail to make it work. They were professional on any job they worked together and left home shit at home. Once they left the job, any disagreements were left behind. It didn't happen overnight, but nothing worth having is easy."

Eames contemplated Arthur, nodding. It was what he had suspected all along, and what he had every intention of doing with Ariadne. "I'd never worked with the two of them together. I might have had kinder thoughts on Dom Cobb if I had, I think."

"You would've," Arthur replied, smiling a little. "He was a different man then. A better one."

"Because of her?" Eames guessed.

Arthur shook his head. "She was part of it, but she wasn't the only reason. Sometimes all you need is a reason to be a good man. Men like us don't have that reason yet."

"Speak for yourself," Eames scoffed, getting up as he grinned. "I happen to be the best in the business. That's all the goodness I need."

He watched Arthur snort and settle back into arranging his disparate data into something resembling coherence. Eames would have plenty of time to figure things out with balancing a life with Ariadne and still working jobs.

As Arthur pointed out, it could be done. It was simply work, and Eames had never been afraid of a little hard work when the payoff was worth so much.

***

"Working hard or hardly working?" Eames teased Ariadne, seeing her frown when reading her e-mail. When she made a distracted waving motion with her hand, he sat down next to her on the hotel bed. "What is it?"

"Yusuf said he sent me something a few weeks ago and hadn't heard back from me."

"Yusuf! Good man. I hope it wasn't anything terribly risqué. He might not know we're married, but I'd hate to hurt such a wonderful chemist for coming onto my wife."

Ariadne rolled her eyes and grinned at him, just as he hoped. "You're hopeless."

"Hopelessly in love," Eames corrected with an exaggerated leer.

"I need to get back to Paris soon anyway. I can check and see if maybe the landlord was hanging onto the package while we were away."

"What do you need to go to Paris for? I thought you were going to watch over us on the job?"

"Yes, but apparently Professor Miles was asking after me." She gave him a soft smile. "He was worried and asked Arthur if he heard from me after graduation. I ought to go and show him I'm okay, and let him know I'm doing what I love."

"Me, of course," Eames replied with a grin, pulling her into his lap.

It took her a moment to get it. "That was _horrible."_

"Horribly accurate," he corrected, sliding a hand beneath her shirt. "Put away the computer love. If you're leaving me for an older man, I want to remind you of what's at home."

Ariadne snorted and turned in his lap enough to kiss his mouth. "I know perfectly well who's in my bed, Eames." She kissed him again, tongue sliding in to touch his. "All this sneaking around so Arthur and Henry don't know..."

"Hot, isn't it?" Eames replied with a smile.

Letting her hand trail down his stomach, she tucked her fingertips inside the waistband of his pants. "Everything's hot with you."

"It is when you're involved."

Ariadne smiled against his mouth. "Such a charmer."

"I do try," he allowed, pulling her even closer. "Care to let me show you how?"

"Please."

***

Yusuf's gift was a set of silver candlesticks and eight wine glasses. _Heard about the change in address,_ began the accompanying note. _Congratulations!_

Pleased, Ariadne set the candlesticks in the center of her dinette table and put the glasses away in the mostly empty cabinet. It had been nice to meet with Professor Miles for lunch and let him know that she was fine. He didn't exactly like the idea that she was going to stay in dream share, but it was her decision and she was working with the best. Ariadne knew how to be safe at this point, and he knew her talent would go to waste in the real world.

She was startled by the front door opening. Eames had a grin on his face. "I might've lied and said I needed to tail our subject directly," he admitted, locking the door behind him. "Do you like your surprise, then?"

"These gifts from Yusuf?" she asked, deliberately playing dumb.

Eames made a scoffing sound. "Should I go out and buy some wine?"

"We have a perfectly good Riesling in the cabinet," Ariadne protested. She let Eames gather her up in his arms as she grinned up at him. "Should we open it?"

"Yes. We'll thank Yusuf later. Well, _you_ will, since I don't officially live here."

"Jonathan LeClair does," Ariadne pointed out. "Elaine missed him terribly."

Eames kissed her soundly. "Jonathan missed her, too. Let me show you how much."

Laughing, Ariadne threw her arms around his shoulders and let him carry her to the bedroom.

***

"Are you back in Austria, then?" Yusuf asked Ariadne when she called to thank him for the gifts.

"Yes. It was a quick two day trip to Paris, and I was so busy catching up that I forgot to call as soon as I saw the package."

"Well, a new home deserves new things. Fresh start all around, something like that. I did see something else that I thought you might like. Should I send it to you in Austria?"

"Yusuf, it's too much..."

"Nonsense. I have few enough friends I like spending money on, and I work all the time in my den. It makes me happy to know that you enjoy the gifts."

"Well, I guess in that case..."

"It's a tapestry, very bold colors. You of all people would enjoy the pattern. I have a gift for Eames as well. He's working with you, yes?"

"How did you know that?"

"Arthur mentioned that he'd asked Eames. I of course refused to leave Mombasa. I've had my journey into the field already. Once a year, or five, is more than enough."

Ariadne laughed at his playful tone. "He had to ask someone else to be the chemist, and the extractor is Henry. It's not the same as when we all worked together."

"No, it would not be," Yusuf agreed. "A team like that is not common, and the job itself was rather extraordinary. Tell Eames that he would be welcome in Mombasa, if he ever decided to come back. You too, of course."

"Not the rest of the team?"

"Cobol is still very angry with Arthur. It will take likely another year for their anger to cool, so it wouldn't be wise for him to visit. Perhaps another time he may see the den."

"Oops. It looks like they want to go over the maze now. I'll call you back, Yusuf. It was great to hear from you."

"I am very glad this life agrees with you, Ariadne. Perhaps we will work together again."

Ariadne was smiling as she hung up and headed to where the rest of the team was gathered. By the wicked look in Eames' eye, he was planning on pulling her aside while they were under. It was a risky maneuver when they were supposed to be learning the map, but she was sure he would have a plan in mind.

This was Eames, after all. If he put his mind to something, it invariably worked.

As she expected, he pulled her into a building and moved aside their clothes just enough to push inside her waiting body. "I've been a very good boy," he purred in her ear, lifting her up against the wall. "Just looking, no touching. Not a whisper of innuendo past the usual."

"And you flirt with Arthur and Henry, too," she gasped, clutching at his shoulders.

"It amuses you," Eames panted, pumping his hips harder and faster. "Throws them off." He bit back a curse as she shifted in his grasp and clenched down hard around him. "Not fair."

"Got to be fast," she countered, doing it again. "We don't have time."

Eames caught a fistful of her hair in his hand as he came suddenly. "But you didn't..."

She kissed his lips. "This means you owe me, Eames." She grinned at him wickedly as she started to disentangle herself. "So it better be damn good."

He laughed, which ultimately brought them to Arthur's attention. "What are you doing over there?" he called out, frowning. "That's not a vital part of the map. Stop messing around, Eames!" he called out.

"I'm trying my own hand at architecture!" Eames called out, trying to physically manipulate the building around him to prove his point.

"Eames..." Ariadne began in a warning tone. "I don't think you should really do that."

Sure enough, her projections milling about the streets suddenly took notice of all of them. Arthur and Henry ducked out of sight, but Eames kept pulling and changing the buildings around them. Ariadne saw one of her projections pull a gun out of her trench coat—oh dear Lord, she looked too much like Mal!—and take aim. Ariadne threw herself in the way of the bullet without thinking about it and took it right in the chest.

She woke up gasping, the others not that far behind her. She'd forgotten how much it hurt to be shot, even in dreams. "You owe me," she reminded Eames, clutching at her chest.

His contrite face was almost enough to make her back off a bit. Almost.

She still let the others yell at him for a solid hour for being so foolish. Ariadne left them behind to head to the office bathroom. She unbuttoned her shirt and checked her reflection. It was stupid; she knew this was a dream and that there wouldn't be any bullet wound. Still, she had to visibly check her skin and prod it with her fingertips. Only then could she really trust that she wasn't actually harmed.

Arthur approached, a concerned look on his face. "Ariadne?"

Turning, she didn't bother to pull her shirt shut. She was still decent, and he had the same concern for her well being that he had prior to the Fischer job. "You're okay," he told her, just as he had told her after the projection of Mal had stabbed her.

"I know that," she began, her voice a little threadier than she would have liked to hear it.

Arthur pulled her into a hug. She allowed it, and rested her head on his chest. "It gets easier to remember that with time, you know."

"I tell myself that."

"We're all here to help, Ariadne," Arthur said, patting her back and then pulling away. He smiled at her, eyes crinkling slightly. "I'm here if you need to talk about it."

Ariadne grinned and nodded. "Thanks, Arthur. It means a lot to me."

He nodded and headed back into the office. Eames came up a few minutes later. "Should I be jealous of Arthur?" he asked, sounding almost sulky.

Smirking, Ariadne buttoned up her shirt. "I don't know. Depends on how well you make it up to me tonight, doesn't it? I'm sure his attention to detail is amazing."

Eames huffed and gave her a leer. "You know how well I can focus on you darling." He glanced around and gave her a quick kiss when it was clear no one was paying attention to them. "I will make it up to you. I promise."

Ariadne let her fingers trail down his arm suggestively. "See that you do."

***  
***


	3. Getaway

The tapestry from Yusuf was lovely, and Ariadne smiled as soon as she saw it and sent an e-mail full of smiley faces and praise. Eames received antique mirrors, and Ariadne knew exactly where in their apartment they would go well.

"He knows you oh so well," Ariadne teased. Arthur and Henry were going over the security detail for their subject, so she felt safe enough in letting her fingers brush across the skin at the nape of Eames' neck. She smiled at his shiver, eyes dancing. They were being very professional while on this job, keeping the smoldering looks to a minimum.

Eames made a low growl as he contemplated her. "Planning to stay late tonight, then?"

"Nah. I'm not needed, so I'll pack it in early. Head to my hotel room, order some very improper movies with a distinct lack of clothing to get myself into the mood." She flashed Eames a bright smile as his eyes darkened in desire. "How about you?"

"You're a bloody tease."

Ariadne let her fingers brush across the back of his neck again. "It's a hobby," she replied in a light tone of voice.

"If the walls in this place weren't so thin..."

She smirked and headed back to her own work space. "Do we need to go over the map on your level again? Just to be sure?"

Eames grinned at her. "Practice does make perfect." He looked over at Arthur and Henry. They wouldn't notice an impromptu practice session. They had gone over the levels with Ariadne dozens of times, too. It wouldn't be out of place at all. "I have the perfect hiding spot, too."

Ariadne's lips curled into a sweet smile. "In that case, let's go."

***

The job itself went well. There was no subconscious security; apparently Columbia Industries didn't know about dream share or discounted it as a potential threat. Henry had plenty of time to get the details of the new marketing campaign ideas as well as the various designs that the development teams were working with. Eames had done a flawless impersonation of the executive assistant in the first level as well as the CFO in the second, and Christian Fusel had no idea that all of this had been an elaborate con. As far as he would be concerned when he woke up, he had anxiety about his upcoming presentation to the Board and had dreamed about it before he had to actually do it.

The entire team had gone to Markneuheiten to present the information. Henry recited all of the information that he had gathered, and Ariadne sketched out the designs according to his direction. Once all of this was passed over, their contact with Markneuheiten passed them their payouts and thanked them for their work.

Leaving the building was hell.

Apparently, their contact at Markneuheiten didn't want any word of their involvement to get out, even on the dream share scene. Security guards ambushed them as soon as they left the elevator bank, and they were shooting to kill. While they hadn't expected any problems, Arthur and Eames certainly hadn't walked into the office building unarmed. Henry was more of a knife fighter, and he was caught in the side of his throat by a bullet as he shoved Ariadne out of the way. She watched in horror as he began bleeding out, blood escaping out through his fingers with every heartbeat.

"Leave," he rasped, pressing his cut of the payout into her hands. "Get out while you still can," he said, eying the elevators.

Arthur was shooting at the guards; one went down, but he was wearing a bulletproof vest and merely knocked out from the force of the shot. Eames was kneeling as he shot at the guards, eyes tracking the panicking crowd in the lobby.

Ariadne could only guess that Markneuheiten would try to pass them off as thieves or terrorists of some kind. There would be no way to refute that claim if they were dead.

Pocketing whatever Henry gave her, Ariadne looked around the elevator bank. There was an emergency stairwell entrance. From Arthur's talks with Henry about the various buildings, she knew that it led to the basement, which had an entrance to their parking garage. It might be a way out of this. "Think you can help us distract the guards?"

"Dead anyway," Henry rasped, nodding. His skin was ashen gray, and Ariadne thought he had perhaps minutes left.

She pressed her lips to his forehead. "Thank you. It was a privilege to work with you." It was a bit of an exaggeration, but it made him smile in appreciation.

As Henry stumbled toward the guards, blood pouring out of the side of his neck, Ariadne whistled for Arthur and Eames. Arthur exchanged a quick glance with Eames as another guard shot Henry in the chest. He went down the stairwell first, and Eames followed after dropping another vested guard. Ariadne winced at the sight of a bullet wound in Eames' arm, but at least it was his left. She turned and followed Eames after another glance at Henry. By sheer force of will, the extractor had stumbled forward another few steps before falling.

Ariadne felt something _burn_ along her back as she turned to enter the stairwell, and the breath left her lungs as she pitched forward. At her cry, Eames turned and caught her. His expression was drained of color and she could only imagine that meant she was shot. "I've got you, darling," he murmured as he pulled her down the stairs. They ducked out on the first landing, which was the parking garage level. "It's going to be a rough ride from here."

She ignored the feeling of something warm running down her back. "I'll make it," she promised.

Arthur shot the security guard at the gate and took his keys. He hit the car alarm button on the key ring, and they headed for the sound of the beeping alarm. Arthur got into the driver's seat as the door to the parking area banged open. Eames loaded Ariadne into the backseat and tumbled in behind her. Arthur started the car and headed right for the incoming guards. "Keep your heads down until we're clear," he said, lips compressed tight.

Eames had his arm around her and was shielding her body with his own. "When it's safe enough, I'll look at that wound. We'll have to avoid a hospital if we can."

She could hear the recrimination in his tone. It was one thing to get shot in a dream, since that didn't have any lasting effects on the body. He had promised up and down that he wouldn't allow her to get hurt, and here she was bleeding. There was no problem breathing, at least, so odds were good that the bullet hadn't gone past her shoulder blade.

Eames was calling an associate as Arthur drove through the parking area. Ariadne grit her teeth against the bright flare of pain that shot through her every time her shoulder or back hit Eames' chest. It was a bumpy ride; she could only assume that Arthur was using the SUV to hit the guards shooting at them before taking to the streets. She tried to focus on Eames' voice as he spoke, trying to figure out what he was saying without saying the words outright. It was something about clearing out hotel rooms, and Ariadne could only assume that Eames was being paranoid. They had all checked into their hotel using one set of assumed names and dealt with Markneuheiten with another set of names. There shouldn't have been any way to link them, but Ariadne was fine with taking no chances. It was only a matter of time before the guard's SUV would be on police scanners.

"Everything's being sent to a warehouse in Brussels," Eames told Arthur once he hung up. "We can sort belongings later. Rooms are being sanitized, too, just in case."

"Good. I lost them, but I'm sure this car is going to be found soon enough. We'll have to dump it and then stay lost for a while."

"We're both shot," Ariadne choked out. She was somewhat gratified to hear Arthur curse under his breath. Henry had talked about other people he'd worked with, and most of them seemed to take bullet wounds from angry employers as commonplace. She didn't want to have to expect bullet wounds on a regular basis.

Arthur made some sort of confusing circuit with his driving and finally parked the car in a desolate area. There were abandoned warehouses nearby, and he carefully wiped down everything in the car that they had all touched. Then, just to be certain there was nothing to find, he set it on fire. They wound up in a warehouse three blocks away. Eames' wound was a graze and easily cleaned with water and tied off with a makeshift bandage. Arthur hissed at the sight of Ariadne's back. "I don't have anything to take this out with." He made a sympathetic noise as he palpated the entry wound and the surrounding area.

"Hospitals will make a police report," Eames said in a low tone of voice.

"I've got fake ID on me," Ariadne said, voice wavering from the pain. "As long as we get this out, you can always break me out of a hospital if you need to."

Eames let out a hiss of frustration and paced with jerky steps. Arthur compressed his lips into a fine line, then came to a decision. "We'll have to get our story straight first. I'll deal with the paperwork later."

***

Nancy Horswill had been on vacation and unexpectedly mugged. While trying to run from her assailant, she was shot in the back. She was taken away immediately to the trauma rooms, leaving the two men to fill out the paperwork. Eames paced and looked haggard enough to make the triage nurse taking down information nervous. "He's her husband," Arthur lied smoothly. "It's all come as a shock."

"I should've been there," Eames muttered, falling into the role seamlessly.

The nurse seemed to calm down at the explanation and turned to Arthur. "And who are you?"

"Her brother," Arthur lied. He made a face that caused the triage nurse to cluck in sympathy for their plight. "We all came here on vacation a while ago. My brother-in-law's been here before, and I was thinking of maybe coming here with my fiancée after we get married, but I don't know now..." He made that sympathetic face again and shrugged helplessly.

"Oh, now it's not always like this here. Just fill this out and we'll see what I can do to get you all sorted, all right?"

Once the triage nurse had them go back to the waiting area to fill out paperwork, Eames eyed Arthur critically. "Why'd you say I was married to Ariadne?"

"I figured she could probably buy it if I said I was her brother. Coloring's not the same, but the slight build is similar. There's no way you could ever pass as a relative, and you won't get visiting rights for this unless you are. So, it had to be husband. We'll fill her in once they get her out of surgery."

"Thought about it much?" Eames asked, eyebrow lofted.

"It worked, didn't it?" Arthur challenged. "Someone had to think up a plan to get us out of this. Now she'll have to fill out a bogus report, but by the time the local authorities figure out that none of it happened, we'll be long gone."

Eames took a deep breath and nodded. Arthur didn't know anything. He was simply planning ahead for this disaster, just as he always did. He wasn't responding to any clues in their behavior at the office building or in dreams. Ariadne was still safe as far as dream share went.

"We need to put the word out that Markneuheiten aren't to be trusted. It won't do much for us, but some enterprising soul out there might do a number on them."

Arthur smiled thinly and showed Eames the e-mail he was composing on his phone. "Already ahead of you. Columbia's going to get quite a lot of detail about this, and I know someone that can get any potential files on us pulled from Interpol servers. We should be in the clear."

Eames nodded and sat down heavily. "Henry was a good man. You know, for being one of us."

Arthur nodded. "His death won't go unpunished."

Now all they had to do was wait for word on Ariadne.

***

Ariadne was held in a recovery room long enough to allow police to arrive to take a statement. Eames texted her in the meantime, which she surreptitiously read before the nurse returned with the police officers. _Arthur told triage he's your brother, I'm hubby. We're on vacation, he's engaged and checking out honeymoon spots._

With that in mind, she played up the distressed tourist angle. The police officer tried his best to calm her down, and didn't question her background too hard. It probably helped that her back _hurt_ and she continually winced or looked for the nurse to tell her that this was a normal reaction. She described one of the guards at Markneuheiten as the assailant that had tried to mug her, and let her eyes water a little. The police officer didn't seem to be disturbed by the sight of a young woman in near tears, but Ariadne thought it probably helped sell her story. She'd never been shot before, so her reactions were genuine.

"Can I see my family please?" she asked finally. "Please? It hurts and this is freaking me out and I want to go _home,"_ she cried, letting her tears fall. In the car she had been too frightened and in pain to cry. Now she just wanted Eames to hold her and tell her that she would be fine, that this didn't happen all the time on jobs and it would heal with time.

"I think we have what we need for the report," one of the officers said. "We'll find them."

One of the officers hovered in the doorway when Eames and Arthur returned. Eames immediately went to her side and kissed her, holding her gingerly. "Are you... Did they say it would be fine?" he asked, sounding nervous. If Ariadne didn't know any better, she would have thought he had no experience whatsoever with gunshot wounds.

Arthur had his concerned look on his face. "Are they keeping you overnight? Did the doctor say anything at all?"

"Nothing. It hurts, and the nurse just said I should wait for the doctor," Ariadne replied, shaking her head. "He didn't say anything at all."

They were all aware of the police officer in the doorway, listening to every word.

Eames stroked her face and hair, giving her a tender look. "You look okay," he said, voice rough with emotion. "They wouldn't let us in if it wasn't going to be fine, right?" He let his thumb trail along the corner of her mouth, and she leaned into his touch. "As soon as they say it's okay, we'll go home. Okay? I think we've seen enough of this place."

Ariadne nodded and smiled. "I'd like that. I want to go home."

Arthur sat down on the chair beside the bed. "Sorry about all this. It was my idea to visit..."

"We were having a perfectly good time until today," Ariadne said, giving Arthur a wilted smile. "But maybe you should pick someplace else. Hawaii is always a good place to go..."

"Or the Bahamas," Eames suggested. "We liked it there."

The police officer left the doorway, and none of the three moved right away. Reluctantly, Eames let his hand fall from Ariadne's cheek. "We probably need to keep this up for another few days."

Ariadne held Eames' hand tightly in her lap. "We'll need to hide after, just in case."

"I'm making arrangements," Arthur said in a low tone. His eyes flicked to the open doorway behind them. "Even if they want you to stay a little longer, we're leaving tonight."

"Am I going to be able to get on a plane?" she asked, brows furrowing.

"I'll take care of you, then," Eames said quickly, before Arthur could offer to help. He patted her hand in a friendly way, careful not to arouse Arthur's suspicions. "I know some people in Mombasa, and Yusuf can mix up some painkillers for you."

Arthur nodded after a moment, considering that. "That would work well, then. He's a much better chemist than the other ones I know. I can't go with you, but I can create a few more false trails in case Markneuheiten is keeping an eye out for the three of us."

It seemed almost surreal to be sneaking out of the hospital later that night while the nurses were changing shifts. Arthur headed to one airport where he had hired two private planes to depart to different destinations. Eames brought Ariadne to the train station, and they paid in cash for two tickets. Once in a different country, they would fly to Kenya.

Eames pulled her close on the train, careful not to jostle her back and shoulder. "I suppose this is the 'for worse' we talked about in those vows," he began slowly, stroking her arm gently.

Ariadne chuckled. "I always thought _you_ would be the one with the 'for worse' and I'd have to take care of you."

"And you married me anyway?"

"You're good in bed. And hot. And did I mention good in bed?"

Eames laughed. She had to be feeling better if she was joking about sex again. "I've always wanted to have sex on a train."

"Eames..." she began in a warning tone.

"What? The rocking back and forth, no one paying attention..."

"We're not in a private car."

"There's the bathroom."

"That's just gross."

"I could make it worth your while," he wheedled.

"Absolutely not," Ariadne insisted. "And especially not with my shoulder injured."

"So if we take a train in Kenya once you recover..."

"You are _awful."_

"That's not a no," Eames pointed out playfully, grinning down at her.

Ariadne looked up at him, lips quirking into a smile. "That's not a no," she agreed. "You'll have to catch me on a really good day."

Eames grinned in response. "Well, I know how to _make_ it a good day..."

She snorted. "Knowing you, sex on a dream train won't count."

"Of course not! The challenge is to get away with it in real life."

Ariadne laughed and settled back against his chest again. "You can ponder that while I sleep, okay? That ought to keep you out of trouble for a while."

Eames couldn't help but snort. "You obviously don't know me very well."

"Of course I do. Why do you think I'm the one sitting in the aisle seat draped all over you? You won't dare wake me up when I obviously need my rest."

"Devious woman," Eames chuckled. He kissed the top of her head and tightened his hold on her a fraction. If the bullet had gone even an inch to the left, it would have missed her shoulder blade and passed straight through her lungs.

It was a chilling thought, and one that left him terrified.

Ariadne merely burrowed into his warmth. "Of course. How else will I keep you in check?"

He laughed and let her sleep. There would be time enough to play with her once she healed.

***

Yusuf met them at the airport and swept Ariadne up into a careful hug. "You look fabulous given the warnings I got," he teased. "Come, I have everything set up for you."

"You got Ariadne her own place?" Eames asked, hefting their luggage. He refused to let Ariadne hold anything other than her laptop bag and purse.

Snorting in disbelief, Yusuf shook his head. "Yours is still perfectly safe, Eames. I did put in a few gifts so that Ariadne would feel comfortable. You are quite the slob, my friend."

"You didn't have to," Ariadne protested.

"You're married," Yusuf said firmly. "You should stay together when you can, and no one is after you here. This is a safe place for you both."

"Yusuf..." Eames began uncomfortably.

"Of course I'll keep your secret," he continued. "It isn't safe, so every tie is precious." Yusuf took one of the suitcases and put it into the trunk of his car. "That's why my messages only called my gifts housewarming gifts and not wedding gifts."

"How did you know?" Ariadne asked, voice faint with surprise.

Yusuf snorted. "I can read between the lines very well, of course." He grinned at their shock and continued to load up his car with their luggage. "Oh, come now. Did you really think you could keep something this important a secret from me?" He laughed at their expressions. "Come now. I notice things, such as how close you two got when we all first worked together a year ago. You deserve some happiness."

"Wow. Um..."

"I would have come to Paris to be there, you know. But I understand the secrecy." He smiled as he shut his trunk. "You do have pictures, yes?"

"We do," Eames said. He looked like he had regained his stride. "Most are in Paris, of course. I have a few encrypted on my phone, though. Ariadne was an absolutely stunning bride."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Yusuf said with a warm smile. "Are you tired from the trip? Or shall we sit at the shop and talk?"

Ariadne grinned. "Let's talk a bit. I haven't seen you in over a year, and there's lots to catch up on." She gave Eames a sly grin. "It'll be nice to have someone I can complain about him to."

"Oi! That's not fair..." Eames began, settling into the car.

Yusuf and Ariadne both laughed, and Yusuf kept up steady conversation with them as he drove into the heart of Mombasa. Ariadne cuddled up next to Eames and kissed his cheek. "It is nice to be able to do this without sneaking around all the time," she commented, grinning at him.

"You do realize that recovery after a bullet wound takes time," Yusuf said helpfully, grinning at them through his rearview mirror. "So you may get to know Mombasa very well."

"I'd like that," Eames said, running his fingers along the inside of her thigh. "I've a comfortable flat here, show you the fun places to be..."

"Not to mention a wide network who'd help hide you in a heartbeat on our say-so," Yusuf added with a fond smile.

"Thank you." Ariadne leaned forward and touched his arm with a smile. "It means a lot to me."

"Now, of course I would be the godfather of any children, right?"

She laughed and settled back against Eames. "Let's see if we decide to have any. We're still figuring out this whole married and working thing."

"Yusuf Eames just doesn't sound right," Eames added.

"I think it sounds distinguished," Yusuf teased, making them all laugh.

Ariadne could feel the prior dose of her painkillers wearing off as Yusuf parked in his usual place and ushered them into his shop. At least she was in a safe place with people she cared about. She would recover from this wound, and she could still dream.

Threading her fingers through Eames', she felt completely at home.

The End


End file.
